


A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

by Bionsena



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, F/M, Happy Ending, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 23:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10581357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bionsena/pseuds/Bionsena
Summary: She was jealous of her sister almost all of the time.Katherina Elizabeth was two years younger than her. The girls had the same blue eyes but where Victoria was short and dark – haired her sister was fair like Mama and at sixteen was already three inches taller than she was.An AU where there the Duchess of Kent had two daughters not one. Victoria has spent her childhood resentful of the younger princess but in time discovers she has overlooked a steadfast ally.





	

She was jealous of her sister almost all of the time.

Katherina Elizabeth was two years younger than her. The girls had the same blue eyes but where Victoria was short and dark – haired her sister was fair haired like Mama and at sixteen was already three inches taller than she was. She was pretty in a very obvious way and could already turn men’s heads.

All of this however was not the reason she was jealous, well perhaps it was a little, but mostly she was resentful because during that dark lonely childhood at Kensington, Elizabeth seemed to have things so much easier.

She was not the heir to the throne and as such she was not suffocated by the watchful eye of Sir John Conroy and the Duchess of Kent. She appeared to run almost wild in comparison to Victoria’s stuffy overprotective upbringing. 

Mama ad Sir John endeavoured to keep her as isolated as possible (the formers suggestion of course) in order to keep her dependant on them. This included keeping her and her sister at an arm’s length from each other. As such Elizabeth had lessons with the kindly Lady Ambrose, a kindly English woman rather than her sister’s far, far stricter governess. Victoria adored her dearest Lezhen but the younger princess appeared to have far more fun with her lessons. 

Elizabeth spent most of her life largely ignored by Sir John as she was not important to his grand plan of gaining power and Mama appeared almost indifferent towards her but would occasionally shower her younger daughter with gifts as though remorseful of this fact. 

But the thing that roused the most jealousy in Victoria was that her sister appeared equally indifferent to the two of them. Any patronising comment or snide inflection seemed to simply roll off her.

Victoria frequently found herself becoming cool towards her sister the older they got as her resentment towards her grew and eventually was treated coldly in return.

And this was the way of things. Until she became the Queen.

…

The day her Uncle William died was both sad and very trying. Almost from the moment they heard her Mama and her controller were hovering around her like vultures.

She kept her gaze fixed upon the mirror to avoid looking directly at them. 

“I think Queen Elizabeth II sounds very fine.” Sir John was saying.

She would not wear any name but her own she had already decided but she would definitely not be wearing her sister’s name, no matter how regal it sounded.  
“Would that not be confusing Sir John?” The girl in question was leant against the doorframe at the time. Elizabeth had taken to appearing at the oddest moments, somehow moving in complete silence, and taking her relatives completely by surprise. 

“Well yes, perhaps.” Mama said blinking at her youngest daughter as though she had forgotten she existed. 

“I think that is not for you to decide however. We could always refer to you as Katherina.” Sir John looked down his nose at her and despite herself Victoria felt indignant on her behalf. Her sister was now heir to the throne but even if he hadn’t been she was still a Princess and far outranked him. But she made no move to speak, she was still a little afraid of Sir John. He was using his most intimidating tone, the one that somehow still made her feel like little Drina who played with dolls, and not like a Princess or a Queen as she was now.

“You could” Elizabeth in contrast simply stared him down “But I should not answer to it.” 

He turned away from her dismissively and she in turn rolled her eyes at the man’s back. She then glanced at Victoria as though expecting something from her. Praise perhaps?

Unsure how to react she hesitated and the moment passed. Elizabeth turned to leave and the new Queen watched her leave, envious once more. She could simply go where she pleased without being stalked like a piece of prey.

It wasn’t fair.

…

She did not take to Lord Melbourne at first. 

Lezhen had warned her about the man, disreputable she called him. As if she wasn’t nervous enough having to meet her Prime Minister alone as was. But she could not back down, it would be showing weakness and the wolves would circle even closer.

Nevertheless Lezhen’s warning frayed her nerves and her imagination took off. Would he be like Sir John, pretending to be charming and trustworthy and then stab her in the back later? The sight of him conversing with her mother’s advisor as he arrived only worsened her fears. 

She was absolutely disinclined to trust him and the encounter with her doll left a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. It was to her like a justification of all she had suspected him of. Melbourne attempted to put her at ease by making conversation, asking her the dolls name and such like but Victoria is too far gone to appreciate his efforts until much later.

She has never had cause to trust a man most of them just want something from her as evidenced when he offers to be her Private Secretary. She takes great pleasure in being able to refuse.

Because for the first time in her life she has the power to make such choices, she is eighteen now and the Queen of England and she relishes in her newfound freedom. It may not last her will may crumble under Mama and Sir John’s bullying but for now she stands resolute.

Lord Melbourne turns to leave and passes the Princess Elizabeth on his way out offering her a small bow as he realises who she must be.

Her sister watches him go with interest before she glanced at Victoria with her eyebrows raised.

“So that’s Lord Melbourne” She smiled “I wasn’t expecting him to be so handsome. The way the Baroness described him made him sound like some kind of sea monster. What did you make of him?”

“He seemed very full of himself” Victoria replied.

Elizabeth laughs “You’ve only spoken to him for half an hour. How could you know whether he’s really like that?”

And it sounds like the sort of criticism that she’s heard her whole life and her nerves are already at an end for the day so she snaps back.

“It’s really none of your business whether I get along with the Prime Minister or not, you won’t be interacting with him.”

Her eyes cool and the smile slides off her face so quickly that Victoria almost feels guilty. Elizabeth stalks out of the room in what can only be described as an indignant sulk but not without throwing one last remark over her shoulder.

“Did you ever consider that perhaps he was as intimidated by you as you were by him?”

Victoria lets out an inelegant snort at that. He Prime Minister intimidated by a tiny girl who still plays with dolls whether she be a Queen or not. She reminds herself that her sister is only sixteen and doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She may resent her for being the eldest and thus being Queen.

It could be worse she reminds herself, if she hadn’t been born then she could have had Uncle Cumberland nipping at her heels with the other wolves.

…  
Much to her chagrin Lord Melbourne winds up surprising her.

First at the meeting of her Privy Council where he had given her this small smile to encourage her because he had seen she was nervous and when she was sat there with steadily rising panic threatening to overwhelm her because she didn’t know any of their names he was suddenly there whispering them into her ear like a guardian angel.  
Then when she determines to move Buckingham House, for some distance at last from her wolves, he offers to act as tour guide although he must have a hundred other things to do. She feels herself relax the more time they spend together until he has her completely at ease, joking even about the size of her throne.

There is a moment, where something shifts, and he becomes utterly irreplaceable. He looks her straight in the eye and tells her he has faith in her. This man, an experienced politician, believes she will succeed where everyone else thinks she will fail. She is left in no doubt as to his honesty his green eyes look straight into her soul and she looks back into his. 

Her confidence rises astronomically and she takes great joy in offering him the post of her Private Secretary.

“Thank you, Lord M.”

They smile together and she feels as though she has made a friend at last. A fellow sheep in this wolf pack.

She decides later on a whim, in penance perhaps for her harsh treatment a few days ago, to give her sister a room in the south wing away from their mother and Sir John. Elizabeth’s smile is radiant at the news.

Perhaps Lord Melbourne isn’t the only ally she has overlooked.

…

She grows even closer to Lord M in the following days.

His constant presence is a balm for the soul. Things that once filled her with dread are now almost easy.

He has a quick dry wit that constantly leads her to swallowing fits of giggles at inappropriate moments. Whenever she felt herself drowning all she need was to glace sideways at him, because he is always by her side, and see him smile. All becomes right with the world again and she can keep going.

Of course people like the Lady Flora try to ruin it with snide comments about the gaps in her education and how she shouldn’t turn her back on the troops and this is one of those rare moments where she does not have her protector by her side. She can feel her confidence dimming once again as though she is still that little girl who plays with dolls once more.

And then to her great surprise a most unlikely saviour steps in to help.

“Lady Flora” The Princess Elizabeth’s voice cracked like a whip “I think perhaps the Queen will ask when she is in need of advice from you.”  
Despite being younger than the both of them her sister was straight backed and entirely unintimidated by the pair of them. Victoria was filled with envy at her utterly regal stature and tone despite the fact that her blonde hair was coming loose from its braid and her hands were splattered with ink for some reason.

Nevertheless she took advantage of her sudden support, startled though she was.

“Indeed” She matches her tone to be as cool as her sisters and then takes her leave of the Lad Flora. She thinks briefly of offering a word of thanks or perhaps a touch to the shoulder to her saviour but struggles to find the words, years of indifference choking her tongue and by the time she’s mustered the courage Elizabeth has glided up the stairs away from her.

So she leaves it be.

…

They are calling her Mrs Melbourne.

The comment made unsurprisingly by Lady Flora is clearly meant to get her to pull away from her closest advisor and to rely on the Duchess and Sir John to whom the lady is unflinchingly loyal. Her only respectable attribute in Victoria’s opinion.

However the attempt fails because instead of making her uncomfortable she finds that a small thrill has crawled up her spine. She likes the way that sounds far too much and this is the moment when she realises that her feelings for her Prime Minister have transformed into something deep and dangerous. 

Mama and Lady Flora continue with their diatribe but she is no longer listening trying to wrap her head around her startling epiphany. She catches her sister’s eye, sees a small smirk on her face, and wipes whatever expression she has off her face quickly.

Elizabeth is curled in a chair, book open in her lap and a pen in hand dripping ink over a sheet of scrap paper on the table beside her. Victoria wonders briefly what is so fascinating that she feels the need to make notes. The smirking has put her on the defensive however and she glares at her sister. The book is snapped shut rapidly and she walks off escaping their mother’s notice entirely.

She does not feel guilty she tells herself. She almost believes it.

Later that day she tentatively makes mention of remarrying to Lord M. her heart is beating so loudly she is sure that he can hear it. Her stomach twists painfully at every mention of his late wife and his casual mention of her young age.

She lies awake that night unable to deny it any longer.

She is in love.  
…

The coronation ball arrives at last and she feels stunning in gold silk, like a proper queen at last.

Everyone looks lovely this evening she admits grudgingly even Mama and Lady Flora. Elizabeth is still a little young to attend the ball so at least she doesn’t have to compete with her easy beauty this evening. Although the concept of a ball of any kind seem to fill the princess with a kind of horror for some reason.

But mostly her thoughts are occupied with thoughts of her Prime Minister this evening. For obvious reasons of course, she desperately wants to dance with him. Yet he is nowhere to be seen and she is filled with panic that he may be displeased with her for all her probing questions about his wife. She does not have it in her to lose him.

She is filled with relief when she catches sight of him during her dance with the Grand Duke though she remains more than a little uncomfortable with his wandering hands. Lord M steps in, her guardian angel once again and she is in heaven to be in his arms. The world gets steadily brighter all evening and her head feels so light it could almost float away from her shoulders and she would not notice.

The champagne may have something to do with it she admits giddily but everything seems to be going her way for once and she can’t bring herself to care. She even gets something to hold over Lady Flora’s head at last.

Pregnant!

She can’t quite believe it at first but she warms to the idea as she would put nothing past Sir John. 

Then of course the rosy world comes back into sharp focus. There is a spectacle in the ballroom and Lord M pushes her away, rejects her in the hallway. She is not warm and fuzzy anymore, in fact she feels more than a little sick and her heart feels like it has been cut open. 

She stumbles away and makes her way to bed as fast as she can before the tears come. She curls up in her ball gown and lets them fall until she falls asleep at long last. She thinks she feels a hand press something cool to her forehead and loosen her braid just before she drifts off.

She wakes in the morning with a glass of water on her nightstand and she takes it gratefully her mouth feels as though something has died in it. 

Elizabeth sends a small tentative smile her way at breakfast and suddenly she knows who was responsible for that small act of kindness. 

She smiles back.

…  
Things with Lord M do not improve. They quarrel over what to do with Lady Flora and Victoria snaps at him still feeling stung from his rejection.

She doesn’t blame him for it of course, who would want her, but there is a noticeable rift between them now and she can’t help but wish it would disappear. But when she is sat on the throne her crown wobbles and she can’t help but catch his eye. He gives her that special smile the one he reserves just for her and she can breathe easier.

Until of course she discovers that Lady Flora is not pregnant at all but deathly ill and panic sets in once more. 

…

Lady Flora grows sicker as the days pass and the entire country turns on her. She is a laughing stock and shame sets in deep in her bones. She swallows her pride and goes to apologise.

It does not go well.

Victoria feels ten inches tall the day the Lady passes away. She loses herself in resentment and self-loathing and she finally snaps at her mother and spits out all the things she has been holding back for years.

She collapses into the closest chair in exhaustion when it’s over and starts at the sound of clapping. She looks up to see Elizabeth lurking in the doorway and watches in astonishment as she bends her knees and gives a small bow in Victoria’s direction.

“You should have done that years ago. I’m….proud of you.”

There is no condescension, no hidden meaning that she can find for once. Instead her sister seems almost shy as though fearful her comments won’ be well received.

Astonished she hesitates just a moment too long once again and the princess flees before she can respond.

Perhaps she has been looking for double meanings when they were never there at all.

…

Lord M says he hopes he is her friend. This is enough for now. 

He tells her to smile and stand tall. She can manage the second but not the first.

And yet:

I think I shall smile in the future with your help Lord M.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Please be kind. This is a new fandom for me! I am a total Vicbourne shipper but bear Albert no ill will as you will soon discover.


End file.
